


Thank You

by shift_in_the_void



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 13:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13008606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shift_in_the_void/pseuds/shift_in_the_void
Summary: Pidge goes through some stuff, thinks about some stuff, and realizes how to 'fix' the stuff again. However, she doesn't know that 'fixing' things doesn't always make them better, and happens to gain more than she ever thought she would in the process. Basically; Pidge's habits and how she ends up dealing.





	Thank You

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it. It wasn't supposed to be posted, but I just said "screw it" and threw this up. I've been meaning to post more content for a while, so what better first work than this, right? 
> 
> There are time gaps between each individual section. How long are the time gaps? All up to you, my dude.

She turned the pants over in her hands. They were a size 2. For being a 15 year old, at 5’2 and as strong as she was, she knew it was perfectly normal. Maybe even a little skinny. She ate a full breakfast, lunch, and dinner, with snacks Hunk would occasionally bring in between. Rationally, she knew it was normal.

However, it didn’t stop the unease from easing in.

These pants were the same pants she brought from the Garrison, and they didn’t fit anymore. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought about them since she became a Paladin. All the clothes that she had received from there on out were stretchy, and comfortable. She didn’t need to look at the number because they didn’t come with one. So when she started throwing herself into the lab, into her inventions, it became her happy place, and it was enough distraction for her to mindlessly eat everything on her plate and go to bed with a pleasant, full stomach. Hunk only encouraged her, by using his spare time to make concoctions that resembled earth food.

The only person who cared what Pidge looked like was Pidge, the way she liked it. But that didn’t mean she liked herself, either.

* * *

 “Yo Pidge, you coming? Breakfast is in a few, and Keith isn’t gonna let me come back without you again-”

“Lance, I’m busy,” Pidge threw over her shoulder. Lance’s hand slipped from the doorway to his sides, while he gave her a probing look. “Pidge, it’s just breakfast. I’m sure what you’re looking at is super cool and all, but please? Get some food? Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaasssseeee?”

Finally, she took her headphones off and turned around to look at him. Lance had on casual wear, thin sweatpants and sweatshirt, with a dash of makeup. To cover what, she wasn’t sure. However, the pleading look he had on his face was enough to melt her heart, and propel her from her spinning chair. She huffed, and pulled up her pajama pants. “Okay, I’m going, but not because you told me to.”

She picked at her food, much like she used to back under her family’s oblivious eyes. As long as she held conversation and moved her cup in front of her plate, she could push and poke and prod it all until it morphed into crumbs. The pudding could be smeared, the carrot-like vegetable could be cut into smaller pieces, all to make it look as if she had eaten more than she had. And for a while, she felt fine. Sure, she wasn’t used to not scarfing down her plate the first thing in the morning, but she’d get used to it. She always did.

When Hunk picked up her plate, he didn’t say anything, and neither did she. After the respective “thanks” they all gave, everyone separated under the condition that they were to all meet up at eleven to train with each other and the bots. So that meant an hour or so of free time, before she was supposed to get her life together.

While delicately tying together tiny ropes and wires, she felt time fly by.

* * *

 She felt a shake on her shoulder before she heard the voice. It was muffled through her arm, and the bright light was disorienting when she snapped her head up to face whoever had woken her up. It wasn’t Shiro, as she expected. It was Keith.

“Pidge? Are you getting enough sleep there? Shiro sent me to get you, we’re all ready. Even Allura’s suited up-”

“I’ll be right there, I just had a lot of dreams last night, thanks Keith,” She said, while jumping off her seat and running to her room to snag the uniform from the hook. By the time she was done, she already felt the concerned gaze she would get from Shiro when she made it. Sighing, she ran down the hall and through the shuttle.

* * *

 “I know what you’re doing,” Lance began, shutting the door as gently as possible. Pidge tried her best not to wince in a way that would give her away, but she knew it wouldn’t work. It never did. She was only good at lying when she knew it was for a better cause, and this was a cause she wasn’t even sure she should continue. Lance took a breath and stepped closer. “You think you’re smart, and that no one notices, but even if you are, we do, and you can’t hide it as well as you thought you could.”

Pidge felt the light sting of tears start to poke at the corners of her eyes. Her pale skin made it easy for Lance to see the blush starting to rise up, and the ball in her throat began to form. However, her hands still typed. Always typing.

“Lance, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m picky. I’m small. I’m perfectly fine the way I am and I think you’re reading way too much into this-”

“But that’s the thing,” he interrupted. Another step forward. “That’s what I thought too, until I saw you dump the food into your lap. Everyone else might not see it, but I do. As much as you think I don’t know you, I do, because I used to be the same.”

That night, under the light glow from the ambient lights she personally installed in room, they talked until Lance fell asleep sitting up. Then, they had to face the embarrassment of Shiro knocking on her door to talk to her,and instead getting Lance’s bed head and morning breath.

* * *

 Pidge knowingly watched Lance, paying attention to his overfilled plate. At this point, they came up with a deal. If Pidge ate at least three quarters of her plate, he would only eat three quarters of what he served (especially considering he served himself gigantic portions each and every time). Even if it was a little more than what he needed, and even if it was a little less than what Pidge needed, they both knew that the leftovers on the plate are what would keep them sane. Well, Pidge at least.

The first night Lance suggested the idea, it was a miserable failure. Lance did eat three quarters, all right. He ate three quarters of a full plate on the biggest dish they had. When Hunk moved to pick up the dishes, he made an offhand comment of “you would have usually ate the rest by now, Lance” that made him cup his mouth when he was sure he was away from prying eyes (he wasn’t) to go vomit up his nervousness and trepidation into the toilet bowl to see if he could make himself feel better (he couldn’t).

Pidge, on the other hand, also stuck true to her word at eating a full three-quarters of her plate. The only difference is that the plate was one of the smallest plates they had, enough for Shiro to ask her if everything is okay, and for her to respond that “yes, I’m fine, Shiro,” and “It’s a girl thing, Shiro,” along with “I don’t feel like eating anymore, Shiro, I’m going to my room.”

So the failure was mutual in the end. A few weeks passed with fewer of those incidents, but they still came every so often.

* * *

 Pidge began to improve immensely during training. Lance no longer fell out of breath as much when fighting close-combat with Keith. He had filled out a little more, turning into the golden boy he used to be before he let himself believe the best he could ever be was bronze. Pidge also noticed a change.

She was no longer able to fit into her size 2 Galaxy Garrison jeans that she had custom made especially for her.

Where Keith was there for Lance when he had nightmares all all odd hours of the night, her workplace became her safe space. When she was about to give up and wake Lance to tell him that she couldn’t do it, she locked herself in her lab and threw the controller across the room. It took approximately 3 hours of vague crisis to figure out that she had actually grown an inch and a half since she arrived, most likely due to the abundance of nutrients in the food goo and the activity she willingly participated in daily. So, in a way, gaining weight was completely normal.

This is the logic she chanted internally to herself until she fell asleep on the table. 

She still has her bad days.

There are some days where she gives Lance a hug the first moment she sees him and he braces himself because it will be a long day of tense stares and prodding to get to where they need to be. There are also some days where Lance barely eats because he knows that if he does, he won’t just empty his stomach. He’ll empty his brain until it turns into a blank bundle of nerves that don’t live, they just survive. However, Pidge covers for him on those days if she can, and Lance makes sure to distract the team to give her some leeway if she needs it. It’s a functioning routine that they got going, and there was nothing more that either of them could want.

* * *

 When Matt sees her again, he half expects the suit to feel empty and hollow when he wraps his arms around it. He is pleasantly surprised to feel something underneath the plastic, to feel some kind of body that is big enough to fill the suit and keep it safe. When he sees the light blush on her tan, healthy face, he smiles big enough for the both of them and thanks whatever divine forces out there that his sister is alive, okay, and herself.


End file.
